Out Back Poem by Brett Rogers
Out Back
A creek ambles by,
The dry makes it quiet, the rain makes it loud …
Tonight: barely heard.
In the darkness,
Among the ghetto owl,
Alone, on purpose, but loud nonetheless …
Among the ghetto dogs,
Chained up,
Till their minds go crooked …
I’m inside, still
And dying.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: depression,poverty
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4/13/2024 10:37:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
